


Disease of the Mind

by Tarlan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Community: mcsheplets, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-02
Updated: 2011-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-18 21:39:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing was helping to cure Rodney's illness, and now Jennifer was inferring that it was all in his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disease of the Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Written for MMoM Day 2, and for mcsheplets prompt #83 Under the Weather  
> Absolutely no apologies for Woobie/Pining!Rodney...sometimes you need some sweet angst.

Rodney didn't have a clue what was wrong with him. It was like a cold without the runny nose, flu without the aching limbs, but whatever it was it was sucking the life out of him like a Wraith. Jennifer had run a dozen tests, more wary of calling him on his so-called hypochondria since the parasite in the brain incident. She had suffered the wrath of Jeannie once already, and no one came back for a second helping of that unless they really had no choice. Unfortunately, being family, he'd suffered plenty of _Jeannie wrath_ over his lifetime.

He felt apathetic, lethargic, wasted, listless...and a whole lot more words of a similar nature, and he couldn't even simply drop by John's quarters and talk about it since they had reassigned John to oversee the F302s at Area 51; he had not returned to Pegasus with Atlantis. The carrot dangled before John was command of the next Earth spaceship that was currently close to its launch date, and Rodney couldn't blame him for wanting the _Lantea_. She was fast, heavily armed, and a mixture of Earth, Asgard and Ancient technology reminiscent of the _Orion_ and _Tria_. He sighed heavily. He still thought they should have named her the _Rodney McKay_ because most of her system specs were from his designs; he'd sweated real blood and tears over that ship. Both Caldwell and Ellis would have jumped at the chance to captain her but she needed a commander who had the ATA Gene. In fact, most of the crew would be chosen as much for their genetics as for their competence. Fortunately, Jennifer and Carson--between them--had improved upon the ATA gene therapy, increasing the odds of it taking from 48% to 56% for humans in general, but to 78% for the Tau'ri--those actually originating from Earth, much to Radek's delight.

Rodney dredged up a smile in memory. Radek's gene wasn't as strong as Rodney's but it was enough to make doors open by mental command rather than only by physical actions--as well as light up the interior of the Jumpers and corridors as he walked through darkened hallways.

Of course, the alliance of planets thought that was deliberate so the Tau'ri (Earthers) could have an advantage over the rest of the Milky Way but Carson was convinced it was something to do with Genetic Drift. Those whose ancestors had never left Earth were simply closer to the Ancients' physiology.

But none of that helped with his current illness, and now, Jennifer was inferring that it might be psychosomatic.

"Rodney, you've been under a lot of stress. This could just be your body's way of telling you to slow down."

He picked listlessly at the food on his tray, too miserable to even look up and roll his eyes. He was strangely grateful that he and Jennifer had remained friends after deciding that their relationship wasn't going to work for them in the long run. He had plenty of colleagues--and minions--but not many people he could call friend.

"Why don't you take the day off. The server is loaded with new movies and music, and Radek will call if anything happens."

The advantage of having taken Atlantis to Earth was the easy access to new equipment and entertainment, and not just things selected by the SGC and distributed through official channels. He'd been looking forward to checking out the list--until this energy-sucking problem.

"In fact, I'm ordering it, Rodney. Take the day off."

He didn't even have the energy to argue, leaving his untouched food on the tray and walking away, leaving it for Jennifer to bus in the only show of defiance he could raise.

His quarters seemed strangely empty despite the accolades on the walls and the small personal touches from Teyla and Jeannie. Rodney shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it over the back of his chair before kicking off his shoes and sprawling across the bed. After half an hour of staring up at the ceiling, he pushed back up to his feet. Perhaps a shower would help.

The hot water felt good and eased the phantom ache a little, but he felt tired after standing under the spray for more than ten minutes. He dried off quickly with one towel before going back into the main room and dropping back onto the bed, wrapped only in his largest dry towel. The edges of the towel fell open but he didn't have the energy to care. It wasn't as if there was anyone on Atlantis who would walk into his room unannounced and catch him here, lying naked on the bed. Only one person ever entered unannounced--frequently--and lived to tell the tale, but John was a whole galaxy away.

He half-smiled at the thought of John walking in on him right now, imagining what John would say. For someone in the military, who'd gone through some form of boot camp and communal showers, John could be really prudish about nudity. Rodney's smile widened as he recalled that one time John had walked in while Rodney was bundled up in his towel after a shower...and he was surprised by the sudden twitch of his cock.

For the past week, even his autonomic morning erection had been flagging by the time he fully opened his weary eyes, no matter what fantasies he dragged out of his febrile brain. Sam Carter, Jennifer, even Teyla hot and sweaty after a work-out had done nothing for him. Not a twitch...until now.

He tried thinking about them now as he took himself in hand, but his cock remained flaccid. However, the scientist in him was piqued and he changed the image in his head from busty blonds to a certain messy-haired man.

John.

His cock gave the slightest twitch in his hand.

John. Naked.

Oh, that was a definite twitch.

Rodney closed his eyes, feeling strangely guilty and yet too desperate to stop.

John. Naked. Watching him.

He gasped softly at the image his mind supplied from that day, letting it transform into this moment with him lying sprawled on the bed with the white, fluffy towel haloed around his body. He caressed his slowly thickening cock carefully, imagining John's face as he stood over him, watching hungrily, cheeks flushed with...embarrassment? No. Yes. Yes and no. John's embarrassment at his own need, his own lust as he watched Rodney's hand slide up and down, thumb flicking over the sensitive tip, smearing precome across the crown and down the length to make each stroke smoother. He saw John reaching for the fastenings on his pants, saw them drop from narrow hips to pool on the floor while he tugged down his boxers. Rodney's hand sped up as he imagined John stroking his own hard cock, matching Rodney, as their eyes caught and held, lost in the moment as they found release.

Breathing hard, Rodney let his hand drop away, and he opened his eyes to the emptiness of his quarters, and an ache that increased inside him. Suddenly he knew what was wrong with him--grief. He had lost John, not realizing that John was the one person he loved above all others, above even himself. Without John, Atlantis seemed subdued and the lights didn't shine so brightly--though Radek insisted that they were as bright as ever and Atlantis was working with the same level of efficiency, so it was all in his head. Without John, movies felt superficial, humor was hollow, and food was bland and unappetizing.

All these years he had been looking for the right person, falling into relationships that could never give him what he needed, and all because he was looking at the wrong gender...the wrong person.

Devastation hit him hard, overwhelming him. He rolled himself up in the towel as he turned to bury his face in his pillow to muffle the sobs that were trying to claw their way out of his throat, wishing he could cocoon himself forever.

"Rodney?"

And now he'd finally broken, finally tipped over the edge into insanity because that was John's voice. The bed shifted.

"Hey buddy? You okay?"

A hand pressed down on his shoulder, easing Rodney onto his back but he kept his eyes closed, wanting to hold onto the extension of his delusion for just a few moments more.

"Hey buddy, you're scaring me here."

Rodney risked a peek. "John? How--?"

"Heard you were under the weather, so I thought I'd come see you."

Happiness flooded through him when he realized John was real. "Under the weather? What's that supposed to mean exactly? I don't see any rain clouds forming above my head." But what he did feel was lighter, and the thrum of Atlantis seemed stronger in his mind, and the lights brighter--and he was starving!

"I missed you," he blurted out.

John winced, as uncomfortable with feelings as ever. "I missed you too."

"I didn't miss you like a friend misses another friend."

This time John frowned in confusion. "You didn't?"

"No." Rodney swallowed hard, aware that he was teetering on the edge of oblivion no matter which way he fell, and he didn't want to lose John again without even trying to make him understand. "The world ended without you."

"Damn it, Rodney." John looked part-pissed, part-despairing but he grabbed Rodney's face in both hands and kissed him hard, the kiss softening once he realized that Rodney was not struggling to get away. "Damn it, Rodney," he repeated, but more softly this time, before kissing him again.

****

"And you're willing to give up the captaincy of the _Lantea_...your own spaceship," General O'Neill emphasized, "For Atlantis?"

"Atlantis is a spaceship."

O'Neill waved him off. "I know, I know...Flying city."

"And it's not just for Atlantis, it's for--"

O'Neill put his fingers in his ears. "I don't want to hear!"

"Sir, the DADT regulations were rescinded some months back, and as we won't be reforming the Team, the fraternization rules won't apply either."

O'Neill dropped his hands back to his desktop. "But this is McKay we're talking about. McKay!"

John bristled a little at this slight to his partner. "He's not so bad when--"

O'Neill held up a hand, looking a little contrite. "Yes. He's a good man, and I have no objections. Just...TMI." O'Neill sighed heavily. "The gene took with Caldwell so I can't see any objections there. Got a feeling he misses being ship-bound. Smaller ship-bound," he amended before John could remind him--again--that Atlantis was a spaceship.

John could understand because on the _Daedalus_ \--or on the _Lantea_ \--Caldwell was king, but on Atlantis, he had to answer to Woolsey. John had played the role as Head of Military on Atlantis for so long that he was used to compromising with the civilian and scientific heads.

"Thank you, sir." Elated, John snapped off his best salute and gained a respectful salute in return before O'Neill dismissed him.

He found Rodney pacing along the balcony outside of Woolsey's temporarily borrowed office, and Rodney turned sharply upon hearing his steps behind him. "Well?"

In answer, John smiled, feeling the last of his own rain clouds begin to dissipate under Rodney's ecstatic grin.

END


End file.
